100 Themes: Old Konoha and the Ridiculous Timeline of Leaves
by Cavallo Alato
Summary: Naturally, husbands cringe when their wives emit that ominous aura of..."her time of the month". Unbeknownst to Hashirama, Mito has more issues than just mood swings. In fact, Konoha has far too many issues, some of them too ridiculous to say aloud, let alone share with Team Tobirama. Ask Danzo. He would know. If only Hiruzen would just shut up, right?
1. Crash

Hey! New story, because it's fun to be inspired.

Will include Old Konoha, messed up timelines (lol), Mariko (my OC from the now-Kiri-providence of Hurricane) from the story **Emeralds**, and...maybe a few wacky Uchihas here and there. Beware of Narutoception, awkward timelines, awkward writing, Obito, Obitopede the ninja bug, "because you let Rin die", and a couple other bizarre topics I like to include.

I'm not going to list out all the themes, they'll just come one by one...

If you haven't read **Blue Hair & Green Eyes**...well, you haven't had a taste of crazy Old Konoha. (lol)

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto, because that flashback ended too early. I will miss lil' Senju and Uchiha.

* * *

**Theme 1: ****Crash**

He was a man of the earth. On the ocean, he was generally all right, but the roaring waves of the rushing storm were not serving him well. His brother, on the other hand, seemed completely at peace, sitting nonchalantly on his mattress. How the white-haired Senju was not thrown from his bed was beyond Hashirama. He was having trouble staying on his chair, let alone doing anything else.

A trip to Uzushiogakure was a trip to see Mito's people.

A trip to see Mito's people meant a trip to see Mito's parents — the clan heads.

Of course, they were due for their detour to Hurricane — Hashirama was sure that Tobirama shared the same thoughts, despite his cool outward demeanor — but the Whirlpool Country was an entirely different animal altogether. There were no cheerful blue-haired people that only knew industry and pretty scenery. The Uzumaki were fierce shinobi, and if they so wished, they'd seal you in a pot and that would be the end of you.

"The Tale of Senju Hashirama". In a pot.

Hashirama shuddered. He imagined some kid rubbing a genie's lamp, except instead of the genie, Hashirama the tree imp would muddle his way out of the container.

Upon expressing this concern, along with all its arbitrarily included side stories, Hashirama added that he also did not want to become a Senju shish kabob. At this, Tobirama snorted and returned to — was he meditating? — whatever it was that he was doing.

When asked what he was doing, Tobirama answered: "Sleeping, nii-san. Sleeping."

So, not finding it odd that his brother was sitting upright while sleeping, Hashirama attempted to remain at his desk quietly. It did not help that his chair was creaky, uneven, and kept tilting with every frequent rock of the ship. No, he could not write in this situation.

Bored, Hashirama slipped out the door and meandered his way down to the girls' room. He was allowed entry after knocking politely, and he shuffled into the room.

Only to find the horror and destruction of a pillow fight's aftermath. If any creature were to have bright red and blue hair, it would have nothing on the two females clutching their bellies in laughter and rolling around on their mattresses. Said mattresses were tossed on the ground, surrounded by pillow fortresses and pillow artillery. Hashirama had never seen Mito so ruffled up, hair tangled here, and maybe there with Mariko's, her robe halfway off her shoulder. He didn't mind that last part, though.

"Am I interrupting?" he asked.

"No, not at all," laughed Mito, attempting to pull her hair back in one neat stroke. She failed, but looked elegant trying all the same.

Suddenly, the boat rocked precariously, and Hashirama tripped over a mountain of pillows. How the two women had so many pillows was beyond him. Disregarding this, Hashirama gracefully turned his stumble into a somewhat awkward leap across the room. Mito watched her husband bumble towards her before stopping and smiling sweetly.

"What brings you here, dear?" she hummed, reaching out to take a lock of his milk-chocolate hair.

"I was restless," Hashirama offered. "Couldn't sit still."

He wouldn't admit that he literally could not sit still, and that Tobirama lacked the energy to make conversation with him. What kind of brother ignored the telltale signs of a distressed sibling? Apparently, the type that Tobirama was.

"Well, you missed the pillow fight," Mito said. "You can help clean up, though."

Now, the boat rocked the other direction, a strong gale creating monstrous waves that hurtled into the side of the vessel.

Hashirama, now thrown backwards, found himself collapsed in the wonderland of pillows, with Mito sprawled on top of him. The two crashed on top of one another, then froze in shock.

From her forgotten position on a flipped mattress, Mariko giggled. Flustered, Mito began to apologize.

"I'm sorry, dear, I—"

"No, no, the ship rocked, and—"

"No, it was I—"

The more this exchange continued, the closer their faces became. When their noses brushed, Mariko squeaked overly loudly and leapt from the mattress to the door in one excited stride.

"I'LL LEAVE YOU TWO ALONE," she said too vigorously, darting away like a squirrel up a tree.

Silence dominated the room. They heard the soft padding of Mariko running towards Hashirama's room, giggling like a schoolgirl, and then the click of a door opening and closing. Mito stared after the girl, before she ripped her gaze back to Hashirama.

"Think she's coming back?" he murmured.

"No."

"I didn't think so." He wove a hand into Mito's red tresses and pressed his lips to hers. Her arms wrapped around his torso their legs entangled among the pillows.

* * *

Somewhere down the hall, Mariko began to blabber nonsense.

"Slow down," came the annoyed reply.

"THEY ARE SO CUTE."

"You are too excitable, seriously."

"BUT THEY'RE SO CUTE."

"I get it, I get it. Can I go back to sleep?"

"No, listen to me!"

Tobirama glared fiercely. The boat's path changed, churning through tide and throwing them off again. Even so, he did not even slide from his position, while it sent Mariko falling humpty-dumpty across the end of his bed.

"Not in the mood, Shorty."

And it was then that Mariko decided that the room had enough pillows to suffice for a one-sided pillow fight, and she attacked him with the strength of five fluffy kittens.

* * *

Mito sincerely believed that Hashirama lived up to his surname. Senju – thousand hands.

* * *

"Shorty—" The white-haired Senju was duly cut off by a pillow to the face. He continued glaring a flicked the cushion back at the blunette.

_Fluffy kitty pillow attack!_

Tobirama began to wonder if he'd really just heard that. Assuming that it had been his imagination, he warded off the girl with the expertise of a Special Pillow Jounin. Besides that, he just really wanted to sleep. (He didn't mind that he got to tackle her to the bed, though.)

Toka walked briskly down the hall. She had a question for Mito, regarding a certain port on the western corner of the Whirlpool Country. She passed Hashirama's room, despite the suspicious Mariko-like squealing and the pillow fight war cries, and continued down to Mito's room. Upon making it to the door, she paused.

Listening, she made a face.

Toka turned on her heel and walked briskly back down the hall.

* * *

"Did you ask her?" inquired Arata, Toka's cousin.

"No."

"Why not?"

Toka was not sure if she actually said this, but apparently she did, and it scared the Flying Thunder God out of half the Konoha crew (however impossible that seemed):

"Don't come a knockin' when the ship's a-rockin'."

Arata made a face.

* * *

Hehehe.

Anyway, has anyone watched the movie "Crash"? It's really powerful... good movie.

Though the conflicts are frustrating.

(As for Naruto: I just want more lil' Senjus. AND MITO. WHERE IS MY MITO, SERIOUSLY.)

...yes, good, strong chakra, this way...*touches wall*


	2. Little Things

Well...for those of you who know Mariko and Tobirama, this chapter's about them!

Hehehehe.

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Naruto, because if I did, Mito would have long since appeared... =3=

**NOTE: This will probably be one of the few with my OC in it. If you don't want to read OC and Tobirama ( D: ) then skip to the next chapter...the rest will focus on the canon world. XD**

* * *

**Theme 2: Little Things**

Who cooks: Surprisingly enough, Tobirama.

Who does the laundry and other chores: Probably Mariko. She likes folding clothes and the smell of clean linen.

How many children do they have: Two! And they finally have names. First is a boy, Takeshi. Then he has a sister, Kori.

Who's more dominate: That's a funny one. Tobirama ~

Favorite nonsexual activity: /tickle fights/ Watching the sunset, baking (Tobirama, lol), cuddling…uhhh.

Their favorite place to be together: At home, in the piano room, on the couch in front of the fireplace.

Any traditions: Tobirama throws a wet sponge at her face because she puts on that annoying Hurricane face paint every New Year's Eve. "Wipe it off!" AKA "I wanna see your face why are you so cute fffff". And pillow fights. And tickling.

Their "song": "Do You Hear the People Sing" (Les Mis) no wait…. Lol. Probably a random piano-shamisen duet (quite innovative)

What they do for each other on holidays: It's a competition to see who can kiss the other one by surprise first.

Where did they go for their honeymoon: A pretty resort in Kumo. (I think….)

Where did they first meet: Hashirama's party (no, seriously)

Any pets: Katrina the horse and Tenzou the cat.

What do they fight over: Mariko being adorable, Mariko being annoying, Tobirama being ignorant, whether or not to add craisins to the banana bread, etcetera…

Do they go on vacations, if so where: They went to Hurricane. It was a disaster. Well, the one time they went to Taki was kind of nice…. (what am I saying)

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

Automatically, he swatted her hand away from the stove. She hastily withdrew her hand and pursed her lips, sidling around him and wrapping her arms around his waist. When she played with the edge of his standard shinobi trousers, he grabbed her wrists and refused to let them go — she was stuck, face pressed into his back and arms still lightly folded around him.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching you cook."

"Don't touch the pot."

"Why?"

"You'll burn your hands."

She pouted.

"No I won't."

He brought her fingers to his lips, turning so that they were face to face.

"Yes, you will."

He kissed her hand; she smiled. Then:

"Tobirama, is something _burning?!_"

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

There was a strange comfort to the rhythm of folding clothes. The slight swish of fabric and a waft of clean linens refreshed her. Cleaning was rejuvenating, almost.

Almost.

It didn't help that Takeshi invited his friends over, and because his friends came over Team Tobirama decided to come for a visit — despite the complete lack of connection between Hiruzen's group and Takeshi's classmates — thus making it impossible to sweep the floor, wash the dishes, or even throw clothes into the laundry.

They were just going to get dirty again, anyway.

"I swear I just saw you wash that shirt."

Mariko shrugged, then gestured to Takeshi, who was running away from Hiruzen in some bizarre game of tag.

"Do you clean everything twice?"

Mariko shook her head.

"Is that…a _cat_ on your lap?"

Mariko nodded and petted the fluffy kitten, a child of Tenzou the tabby.

"So…is this why our laundry takes forever?"

Mariko glared.

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

"The answer is _two_," she insisted.

"No, it's _four_. My sensei said so." He folded his arms, huffily tucking his shaggy blue hair away from his face.

"Well, your sensei's wrong!"

"MOM!"

"I can hear you, I'm right here." Slightly weary but mostly just sleepy, Mariko folded a few pairs of Tobirama's shinobi long-sleeved shirts, freshly ironed and crisp, into a neat pile on the table. "What's up?"

"If there are four enemies here, and two there, and three have gone on reconnaissance, while one is a decoy and another is a spy, and two cannot be spies while this one here must be used for attack, given that you are in AB formation, then how many—"

"Don't ask me, ask your father." Marital skill number 43: refer to the other spouse for further information. Actually, it was both skill 43 in marriage and skill number 12 in "how to deal with your arguing children", according to Mariko.

"DAD!"

"He's not even here, stupid!" She stuck out her tongue.

"I'm not stupid!"

"Kori, don't call your brother names," Tobirama sighed, kicking off his shoes as he walked in the back door. "Takeshi, don't worry about it, I'll help you both."

"The answer is two."

"No, it's four!"

"Two, you idiot!"

"It's _four_!"

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

She ran at full speed across the courtyard and tackled him head on. He hardly moved an inch, causing her to grumble at the harsh impact.

"It's your fault," he said simply.

"You're awful," she hissed. "Why can't you sweep me up like those people in the movies and do something fun?"

"I'm lots of fun," he deadpanned dryly.

"You're _not fun at all_."

"You can't argue with me. You'll lose."

"I never lose."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Her eyes narrowed and she tried to prove her point by punching him in the gut. This was probably the most ridiculous thing she'd ever tried since attempting to kiss-attack him and ending up smashing their noses together — plus, they were by a pond, and they fell into the pond — because his abdomen was rock hard. He also stiffened and glared at her; she made something that sounded like a strangled whimper, and then a pout.

He pinched her cheek.

"DON'T DO THAT."

"Do what?"

"Do—"

He grandly swooped her up in his arms and took off at a run, an armful of squealing blunette.

"PUT ME DOWN."

"No."

"Put. Me. Down."

In seconds, they were in his room, and he unceremoniously tossed her onto his bed. She folded her arms and glowered at him.

He smiled — mischievously.

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

1. Sunset

She never got too close to the rock ledge — her back was pressed against the uneven rock wall, half in shadow half in light — but just the right distance to see the lip of the cliff fall away to a deep green forest and the light smattering of color that was the village. Knees tucked to her chest, Mariko waited for the sun to set.

"You can come farther out, you know." He offered a hand.

"No thanks," she replied, completely comfortable where she was.

"Just once," he prompted. Tobirama kneeled and took one of her hands in both of his. She reluctantly allowed him to pull her to her feet, relenting as he wrapped a secure arm around her waist. He guided his little blunette closer to the edge, but paused when her fingers clenched around his sleeve anxiously. "We'll stop here; you can see more."

And she really _could_ see more. From the sweep of the streets down to the Hokage Tower, past the Hyuuga compound and the Inuzuka place, the Naka River stretching its sleek length beside the village, and the sun tucking itself beside the face of the mountain.

"It never gets less beautiful," she said.

"No, it doesn't." He looked down at her and kissed her forehead, tucking her just a little bit closer to his body. She fit like a puzzle piece; carefully slipped into place alongside him.

* * *

2. Banana Bread

The pack of craisins was tipped precariously over the batter; he swatted it away with ease.

"Don't touch," he warned, bumping her out of the way with his hip. She stumbled aside and sulked, planting herself in a chair and watching him make his famous Senju-style banana bread. It was among the list of "Tobirama's talents" that were supposed to be written somewhere. The first was probably his ninjutsu, of course, but Mariko thought that his greatest talent was "being a grump". Second was playing the shamisen, and third maybe baking.

_And_ he was wearing a ridiculously frilled apron — Mito forced it on him — that made him look like a fluffy pink bunny. The bunny part was Mariko's own imagination. She could easily place a pair of rabbit ears on his head at the moment; he looked the part.

"What are you smiling at?"

"Oh, _nothing_."

* * *

3. Cuddle

He didn't protest when she pulled his head to her chest and they just laid that way for quite some time, motionless. She was soft and warm and smelled like red tea — he could hear her heartbeat through the fabric of her top, steady and comforting. He supposed that he didn't always have to be the one holding her; he didn't mind being held once in a while, completely comfortable in his position.

Wrapped in her delicate arms and tucked firmly against her side, he fell asleep for some time, dreaming that the wavy wisps of blue in the corner of his eyesight were waves of water lapping the shore lightly. A hand cupped his face, gently stroking his cheek with a thumb, and he closed his eyes.

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

It was an unusually cold winter for Konoha, and the horrendous ice storm outside drove everyone indoors. Typically, the resident blunette of the Senju clan would have leapt into her bed without a moment's hesitation, but the presence of a friendly flame in the living room fireplace kept her near Tobirama, who was currently lounging on the couch beside the piano.

It wasn't a particularly comfortable couch, but it was closest to the fire and pleasantly warm. He'd herded a flock of pillows and blankets to the area, and was now comfortably tucked in the mess with a little sapphire-topped girl sharing in the warmth.

_This is nice_, he thought, taking pleasure in the little alone time he had with her when he was working through a pile of mission requirements. His team had gone on ten missions in the last seven days, some of them in-village and some of them all the way out by the ocean. Whatever the request, they trudged through the weather rather grumpily, trying to return as fast as possible.

Tobirama's pleasant thoughts were interrupted when their little cove of comfort was discovered by what seemed like the entire Senju clan.

Hashirama and Mito jumped into the bundle, bringing an ocean of blankets to cuddle up in. The long-haired God of Shinobi wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulders and they ended up in a tangled mess of people — Mito's head on Mariko's lap, Mariko tucked into the crook of Tobirama's body, Tobirama leaning on Hashirama, Hashirama leaning on the couch with Mito's legs across his own, and so on and so forth.

To make things worse, Toka, Arata, Etsuko, Kell, and maybe five more people found this to be the best place for a group cuddle party and stormed the room. There had to be at least thirty pillows in the room now, as one piled on top of the other. Etsuko and Kell claimed the couch behind Hashirama, Toka made herself comfortable beside Mariko — the usually fierce woman looked like a peaceful black cat, folding herself up to nap — and everyone else miraculously fit themselves around the Senju puzzle.

"Hey, don't leave me out! I'm the cuddle _master_!" someone yelled.

Team Tobirama sort of crushed the main Senju party, with Hiruzen folding himself between Tobirama and Hashirama, Koharu sitting next to Mito, and Homura curling up at the end of the couch with a book.

Somehow, Team Toka followed, and the addition of a human marshmallow, a human fireball, and a human ice cube — his lack of heat was negated, fortunately — made the group all the more crowded.

Tobirama groaned. So much for "alone time".

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

He was rude. Very rude.

The sponge to her face was only further proof that he had no respect whatsoever for outside traditions, and was, in fact, a prejudiced bigot who did not appreciate the beauty of other cultures.

At least, this was the rant that she spouted at him for five minutes straight, accusing him of hating the Uchiha and a bunch of other nasty things that no one expected to come out of her sweet little mouth.

In the background, Kagami and Hiruzen snorted.

Meanwhile, Mariko attempted to wipe her face clean of the now-smudged paints, before angrily chucking the sponge back at Tobirama. And then, just to prove that she would not be subjugated to his "selfish, idiotic requests", Mariko ran to her room and reapplied all her Hurricaned face paints with a vengeance.

"I _dare_ you to throw another sponge at me," she hissed.

He dipped the sponge in some water and held it up, the edge of his mouth twitching in anticipation of a grin.

"Happy New Year," he said.

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

He plucked his shamisen with ease and grace, while her fingers danced nimbly across the piano keys.

"You two are a disaster in the making," groaned Mito, for they were playing completely different tunes and were clashing at every chance possible.

"I think it sounds lovely," Tobirama muttered.

"You're tone deaf," replied Mariko.

He threw a pillow at her.

Mito sighed and left the room, ready to tell her husband that this musical duo was not fit for a performance at the Fire Daimyo's palace. She'd rather they stayed home and called in sick than make a fool out of all the Senju — and of Konoha — in front of the Fire Country's leaders.

"_You_ don't know the difference between _this_"— he plucked a sequence —"and _this_!" He plucked a difference series of notes. "Can you even _name_ what I just played?"

"Well why don't _you_ tell me the difference between—"

Mito closed the door, because she wasn't about to listen to this conversation.

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

Mito had a mouthful of moon cake, and she wished that she'd been somewhere else. She nearly spit out the baked goods, red bean paste and all, when Mariko launched herself into the room and threw herself on Tobirama. He deftly wiggled out of her grip and ran out the door.

"You'll never get me like that!"

"I hate you!"

* * *

Hashirama was not sure what was going on. The two were skirting the Hokage Tower, hiding from one another yet seeking one another all at once. Tobirama would catch her by the arm, but she would run away.

"You're supposed to _surprise _me!"

"You're _always _surprised!"

"Am _not_."

* * *

"You don't really hate me, though. Right?"

A whisper beneath the covers.

"Stupid Tobirama."

* * *

At once, he dropped from out of nowhere, hiding on the roof like the shinobi he was, and pressed his lips to hers.

"I got you."

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

The Cloud's coastal cities were known for their lovely resorts and fabulous weather. However, Tobirama had this strange feeling that a familiar chakra was following them.

"You'll leave us alone, right?" he'd asked his brother.

"I trust you," Hashirama answered simply.

He was trusted to take his wife on a honeymoon and not do anything stupid, that is.

But the presence was consistently following them, and he discreetly checked the surroundings when Mariko was not looking.

No, there were two presences.

* * *

Somewhere behind the newlyweds, two people bumped into one another.

"What the hell, that hurt!" hissed the woman, straightening the scarf that was wrapped around her hair. She glared fiercely at the strange, hooded man that had bumped into her. He wore an overly potent cologne that made her want to gag. It was a familiar smell that she negatively associated with a certain Kiri nin. "Ew, it's _you_."

"I'm thoroughly offended, Lady Princess," he said in mock horror, rubbing his wispy mustache as his mouth turned downwards in a frown.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"I could say the same to you."

"I'm watching out for my sister."

"So you're here to keep from having fun, no?"

* * *

"Tobirama? Is something wrong?"

"No…not really." _What the hell is that. _

A Kiri nin waved at him and winked, while a woman with blue hair strangled him and they disappeared from sight before Mariko could turn around and see them.

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

He didn't look at her once, and she felt completely rejected from this society. She didn't belong here, and she didn't _want_ to be here.

Well, at least the food was good.

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

Tobirama sometimes got tired of Mariko's fondness for her animal companions. She could spend hours at a time sitting in a horse's stall, talking to a creature that could not answer.

"Katrina and I spend _quality_ time together," Mariko defended, while petting Tenzou the cat.

_Why can't _we_ have quality time together? _Tobirama accused silently.

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

"I told you, _don't touch the bread!_"

"But I _need_ to add craisins!"

He seriously wanted her to shut up and stop interfering with the delicate process that was baking banana bread. Was it really that hard to listen to him, sit down, and _not move_? Then again, this was Mariko — she couldn't just _not move_.

"Stop it!"

"No!"

"Don't touch—hey!"

"You made me knock it over!"

Tobirama shoved the batch into the oven and slammed it shut, before she began wriggling again.

"Let me—"

"No."

"I'm going to—"

"Stop!"

They scrabbled around the kitchen, and somehow ended with Tobirama shoving her against the fridge and then coming to a standstill. Mariko angrily blew a strand of hair out of her face, huffing in frustration. She was completely and utterly adorable, and he wanted to pinch her cheeks.

"Stop it."

"Stop what?"

_Being so adorable_.

He gave her a quick peck on the lips, and she shut up.

Then:

"TOBIRAMA, ARE YOU BURNING SOMETHING _AGAIN?!_"

* * *

**x.x.x. .x.x.x.x**

* * *

"Bring us with you," wailed Hiruzen, clutching at his teacher's sleeve. "Please, Tobirama-sensei, don't leave us here!"

"I leave you here all the time."

"DON'T LEAVE," cried Hiruzen, crumbling to the ground and rolling about in agony, grabbing the edge of Tobirama's trousers in an attempt to convince him not to go to Takigakure. "HEART-EATING MONSTERS WILL GET YOU OUT THERE."

"I'm sure they will," deadpanned Tobirama, kicking the teen off his leg. "Now. If you'll excuse me, I have to finish packing."

"DON'T LEAVE ME," hollered the monkey.

"Oh shut up," hissed Koharu. Homura never once looked up from his book.

* * *

"You done packin—what the hell is this?!"

"I'm packing everything."

"Take that _out_," groaned Tobirama, rolling his eyes. "You don't need all that stuff."

She made a face.

"Yes I do."

* * *

Tobirama doesn't understand the fact that women can't just bring a few shirts, some underwear, some shorts and simple things, and be done.

No. Just no.

/weneedeverything/


	3. Lullaby

...this was...

Turned out differently than I thought, that's all. (lol?)

I don't know...has references to **An Eye for an Eye**

Yes.

**Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto, because...omggg Minatooo!**

Anything that doesn't follow canon...OH WELL. XD whoops. :'D trolololo-

* * *

**Theme 3: ****Lullaby**

It was a song he'd heard many times before. It was a slow sad song, the variation of a funeral lament from a foreign land morphed into a beautiful tune meant to celebrate life. There were countless places where he'd heard it, countless times, countless memories. The first time, maybe, it was Mito-sama, singing to her child. Kagami remembered it so clearly, like the whistle of wind through his ears.

It had been a cool night, damp but with a soothing breeze. He, Danzo, and Hiruzen had slipped into a line and followed Tobirama-sama without question. The heads of many clans, the most high level shinobi, were posted outside the cavern entrance. Biwako and Koharu were inside, closest to both the danger and the miracle. The anguished scream that tore from within the stone walls made him cringe, and he glanced over at his companions.

"Is she okay?" murmured Hiruzen, sidling over to his sensei and tugging on the white-haired Senju's arm. Tobirama-sama glanced down at the monkey, his eyes darting from the door to the cavern for a split second. He then looked over the two others — Danzo, stoic and silent, while Kagami nervously trailed after Hiruzen.

"She's fine," chuckled Tobirama-sama, for he knew that the Uzumaki was the strongest woman to ever grace the mainland's history. "This is why women, they say, are stronger than men."

Hiruzen snorted at this, because he could hardly believe that someone like Tobirama-sama would say such a thing.

"Sensei, have you gone soft?" he mocked, parroting a saying that so many ninja of the time liked to accuse others of.

"Hardly," replied Tobirama-sama dryly. "Ask your mother, and maybe you'll know."

Hiruzen made a face so comical that Kagami could not help but laugh. Leave it to the jokester to lessen the tension.

He was anxious, however, no matter how much Hiruzen joked. Even he, a mere genin still, could _feel_ the taught energy in the air and the churning of a wrestling power. The Nine-tailed Fox, jerking wildly at its strains, so much so that Kagami could feel it from there. Danzo, unperturbed, laid a reassuring hand on his teammate's shoulder. He shook his head slightly; _strong shinobi_, were the words he mouthed silently to Kagami.

_That's right_, Kagami reassured himself. The God of Shinobi himself was accompanying his wife, and right here beside them was Tobirama-sama, and countless clan heads posted all about.

It had been a while now — Kagami knew that Mito-sama had been in labor for a long, long time, and that they'd come in the night, hopeful for some progress. Tobirama, in the last hour or so, had slipped inside the cavern, leaving them sitting wordlessly with a few ANBU guards. They tried not to react at the screams of pain, echoing through the clearing and bouncing off the water. It was almost as if Mito-sama was declaring to the world the dangers of this birth.

Suddenly, the door burst open, and the guards whipped around, kunai drawn.

But it was only Biwako, crying tears of joy, motioning for them to enter excitedly. Hiruzen was the first to scramble to his feet, and the other two soon followed. The ANBU, despite their orders to maintain their positions, began chattering enthusiastically, animal faces conversing in loud whispers. Kagami motioned to Danzo, and they too followed Hiruzen and scaled the cliff to the cavern entrance.

It was dim inside, lit only by a few candles, their mild, lavender scents wafting lightly through the door's threshold. There was a platform, a bed, where Mito-sama rested as she cradled her newborn. Hashirama-sama, oddly enough, was sulking just beyond, waiting for his turn to hold the baby. Koharu, snorting with laughter, informed them that one of Mito-sama's aides had slapped him away and declared, "The mother gets to see the child first!" with a pompous harrumph at the First Hokage. And so, Mito-sama was humming to her child, lulling the baby to sleep. The child cried and cried until Mito-sama began to sing, an Uzushiogakure tale of water sprites and golden birds spun into a lullaby. She sang until her baby quieted, falling into a peaceful slumber upon her breast. It was only then that Hashirama was allowed to hold his child, and the look of joy that lit up his handsome features was infectious.

"Hush, hush child," Mito continued to sing. "Have no fear, your golden wings will be your sword and spear. And if you spy a water sprite, you will fly your way to the morning's light."

It was a children's poem, meant for up and coming shinobi. Kagami listened; it almost saddened him, to know that such a song existed. It was sweet and beautiful, encouraging and bright, but with the ominous undertones of a shinobi world where war used to run rampant and nations pitted clans against one another mercilessly.

"Mito-sama," said an ANBU guard. "Lady Toka asks permission to enter."

The Uzumaki spluttered incredulously, and then burst into laughter. "Of course she may! Call her in!"

The ANBU almost cringed, and if he hadn't been masked, Kagami supposed that he would have been grimacing. He turned, opened the door, and to their shock and surprise, a large majority of the Senju clan poured in excitedly. And loudly.

The poor baby awoke and began to cry – Mito-sama was too tired to continue hushing the child, and also too tired to hush the crowd.

"EVERYBODY!" exclaimed Hashirama-sama. "QUIET!"

The entire Senju clan fell silent, and the closest cousins crowded around Mito and cooed lovingly at the baby. They began to roll off question after question – who the baby looks like, what's the name, girl or boy – until Tobirama-sama dutifully shoved himself between Mito-sama and the rest of his family, shooting glares every which way until they backed off.

Eventually, everyone was pushed out the door, a poor ANBU duo trying fruitlessly to herd everyone into some kind of organized fashion. Kagami and his friends were thrown out as well, leaving only the two girls to remain with the new mother and father.

"You know, I never thought of babies as cute until now," Hiruzen laughed, picking at the belt of his chest plate. He'd worn his armor, thinking that they might see some action – an assumption that had him duly scolded by Tobirama-sama, who stressed the fact that they wanted anything _but_ action tonight. "You think I'll be able to teach Hashirama-sama's kid?"

"No," stated Danzo flatly, outright rejecting the monkey.

"Well, maybe you can teach his grandchildren," enthused Kagami, chuckling.

"I'll be so _old_ then," sulked Hiruzen.

"Saru," drawled Tobirama-sama flatly, shooting his student a pointed glare. It seemed like Tobirama-sama was forever glaring. His few moments of softness were hard-earned and very rare; that is, unless you were his wife or something. (Then again, Kagami had figured a _tsundere _type for Tobirama-sama from the very beginning, and all the stories he heard of the Senju household only further proved him to be correct.) "If you continue complaining," Tobirama-sama warned, "I will curse you with the most unfortunate genin team in the history of genin teams."

"That's a very little history," came the snarky reply.

"Ah, but to be more unfortunate than training you? Quite a feat, isn't it?" Tobirama quirked a brow at his student, who pouted and crossly turned away as they walked back to the village.

"Tobirama-sama," said Danzo in the most monotone voice one could muster.

"Yes?"

Kagami, for a very long time, wondered if Danzo had actually uttered the next few words. In fact, he sometimes stared into space and attempted to replay this scene, but it didn't quite fit so eventually he came to the conclusion that he was dreaming. Probably.

Without any embarrassment, Danzo asked blandly:

"When are you going to have a child? Are you making one yet?"

Either Danzo was _really_ clueless, or he was actually trying to be funny. And Danzo never tried to be funny. Hiruzen guffawed and burst into tears of laughter, collapsing dramatically to the ground and rolling about as he giggled hysterically. Kagami blinked a few times, a smile tugging at his mouth, but he checked Tobirama-sama's expression first.

Tobirama-sama stared at the Shimura boy as if he'd grown another head. His scarlet eyes were wide and if that moment had been a comedy show on TV, the Senju's happuri probably would have fallen off.

"Danzo, what are you trying to insinuate?" he asked carefully, pausing to shove a caterpillar Hiruzen out of the way with his foot.

"Ow," Hiruzen yelped, before returning to his laughter and grabbing onto Danzo's leg.

"I'm insinuating that you—"

Before he could finish, Hiruzen clambered up Danzo's leg and started shaking the other boy's shoulders, laughing so madly that Kagami began to wonder if an enemy has released a smoke bomb full of laughing gas. Tobirama-sama, not quite sure he wanted to hear the end of that sentence, turned on his heel and trudged away wordlessly.

"Danzo…" Kagami stared at his teammate.

"Yes?"

"Nevermind."

* * *

Kagami's ears rang with the familiar melody, the lullaby that Mito-sama used to sing, now echoed in Biwako's voice as she sang to her unborn child. Hiruzen was, perhaps, the happiest person in Konoha at the moment. Kagami, overseeing an entrance of new Academy students, could not help but turn and grin at Mito-sama, who occasionally graced the nearby gardens in her spare time. He would occasionally scoop up an Academy student or two and introduce them to the First Hokage's wife, and they would stare in awe.

Tsunade would drop by from time to time, smiling tightly because it was August, and August was always the most painful for her. On the 9th, she would drop by the Academy and say hello, often inviting the young Uzumaki transfer student to tea, perhaps helping Mito-sama care for the girl. Mito-sama would say nothing, and Kushina never asked when Tsunade ordered a lonely slice of cake and set a candle on it, mouthing _happy birthday_ before blowing out the candle and counting the years.

On the 10th, Tsunade would tuck Hashirama-sama's necklace inside her shirt and walk out to the cemetery, where she paid her respects to Nawaki before returning to her two teammates that waited loyally by the gates.

But it was the birth of Hiruzen's first child that brought the celebration to the heart of Konoha. Mito-sama recited a chant of good health and good luck, with the longevity of the Uzumaki and the skill of the Senju. To Kagami's surprise, Koharu and Homura threw away their boring robes suitable only for council meetings, and seemed to remember that they were, in fact, still quite young, and could still fit into their old shinobi-life clothes. And, to himself, Kagami liked to say that Koharu was still as beautiful as always, though the hardened line of her mouth and the dark circles under her eyes seemed to mask her beauty. They had come, the marks of fatigue and sadness, after the death of Tobirama-sama. Somebody had been singing then, Kagami forgot who, but when Hiruzen stepped up and paid his respects to the Second Hokage, whilst taking the Hokage's hat and placing it upon his head, Koharu had been among the many who could not handle it any longer.

She'd fallen to her knees, and Kagami regretted not being able to comfort her.

And they'd drifted apart, slowly but surely, until Koharu became a trusted member of Konoha's council, leaving Uchiha Kagami somewhat drifting because she had been his anchor. He fell under the hand of his father, the new clan head since Madara-sama's leave, and worked robotically under the Uchiha Police Force. Had he been anyone else, he would have thrown the job away and hated the Senju with a cold heart. However, he knew, so very well, that the Uchiha Police Force was a gift granted to his clan, a chance to integrate into society and help keep the order and peace. For that, he stayed, and for Tobirama-sama and his countless, subtle kindnesses, Kagami stayed.

He brought flowers to Tobirama-sama's wife every Sunday, until the emptiness in her eyes began to heal and the children did not have to forcefully tell her to get out of bed every morning. He ran errands for Hiruzen, and later, Biwako, when they were expecting their child. He would brush past Koharu wordlessly; she never really looked at him anymore.

Eventually, he was married to a pretty Uchiha girl, and he learned to love her. He knew, as did she, that he would never truly fall in love, but he appreciated their closeness and companionship that they shared. She, too, had once longed to marry a handsome shinobi from outside their clan. However, he was her greatest misfortune – she happened to fall in love with a Senju. For that very reason, her parents pulled her closer to the clan, so close that Kagami's father deemed her a worthy fit for his son to marry.

Kagami grew to despise his father.

But he had one great happiness, and that was his son.

Shisui was his world when he was born, and his love for another was never greater. He vowed to the graves of the First and Second that he would teach this child the ways of peace, the ways towards a world where hatred was demolished and shinobi did not have to go to war. It was his dream, really, to see his own Will of Fire carried on. So when Shisui was born, Kagami, no matter how ridiculous he looked, began singing Mito-sama's lullaby through his tears of joy. Of course, he let his wife hold the child first, but he sang and sang until his voice was hoarse and he was reduced to soft whispers, watching his wife and child fall asleep.

Uchiha Shisui became an excellent shinobi – he made his father proud, truly proud. His best friend was Uchiha Itachi, son of the new clan head, a respectable man named Fugaku. The two of them were the top students in their respective classes, and they stuck together like Velcro. It was only when their monthly clan meetings drifted towards a new goal with a new motivation that Kagami became anxious.

As a respected elder, living through three Shinobi World Wars, Kagami was a source of knowledge and experience. Clan leader Fugaku turned to him and asked:

"Kagami-sama, please tell us your opinions on this new plan. What risk is there to Itachi playing the double agent between the Uchiha and the ANBU?"

Kagami was silent then, and he mused to himself that he could _feel _another hair go gray. But, in the end, he still had a duty to answer to his clan, so he said:

"Double agents are dangerous, very dangerous. If you are willing to put your son at such a risk, you may do so. I only have one request – please don't involve Shisui."

At this, there were several murmurs of assent, understanding.

"And what of the coup d'état?"

Kagami froze. The coup. Of course he would have to answer, of course they'd ask him his opinion. He folded his hands neatly in his lap, and slowly looked around the room.

"That, is…" Kagami paused. "An issue."

"An issue?" echoed a man, one of Fugaku's partners. "What of it? Do you not support our cry and rally, Kagami-sama?"

"All I wish to see is peace," Kagami told him firmly. "However it may come about. I do not believe that my experience will help this kind of action in any way. It is up to you — you are the future generation, are you not?"

He was always bad at wiggling his way out of tight spots, but he hoped that it would be sufficient for the younger clan members at the time being. The man glanced at Fugaku, who sat back and pondered Kagami's words. His wife, the soft, young Mikoto, bit her lower lip and touched his elbow. He pulled away in a way so familiar that Kagami could not keep watching. He remembered Koharu, always Koharu, pulling away from him when he offered to be her pillar of support.

He suddenly told Fugaku, "Cherish your loved ones, clan head. And then, your desires will come to fruition." Then, a bit sadly, he added, "As mine have not."

With that, Kagami stood, creakily stretching his old knees and ambling out of the meeting room. The other Uchiha elders stared after him, but he did not say a word. The fresh air was all he wanted, really. He wished to be uninvolved, but he knew, as an Uchiha, that he was bound to whatever the clan decided on, no matter the protests and cries against it.

_Tobirama-sama, would you silence us?_ Kagami pondered to the breeze. _And Hashirama-sama, would you have tried to compromise?_

Each option had its downfalls. Tobirama-sama's way of dealing with this kind of thing was obvious — it meant the imminent end to the Uchiha. On the other hand, Kagami would have agreed with the white-haired Senju that the First's methods were too soft; the Uchiha would riot again. _There is no answer, is there?_

Fugaku looked for him one more time, in private.

"Kagami-sama, forgive me if I'm intruding, but is there a reason you have not shared clear thoughts on our plans?" he asked that night, a gentle dusk by the Naka River. Kagami, with some difficulty, bent and scooped up a flat stone, smooth and round. He easily skipped it across the river, as it was quite narrow there. When it hit the other side, he sighed, wondering if his old teammates had such trouble with their aging bodies nowadays. Fugaku waited in silence, patiently watching as Kagami picked up another stone and considered it.

"I," began Kagami, "am only a guardian of this clan. I can no longer influence this family, nor can I lead it. I can only watch over you all and give blessings to the younger generation."

_Protect those who have faith in you…train those whom you can leave the next generation._

Kagami chuckled, and Fugaku tried not to show his confusion. The clan head was skilled, experienced, tough. He had a calloused shell, firm in his beliefs. For a moment, Kagami pictured Fugaku as he had been as a boy — slightly self-conscious, pretentious, and superior to all the other shinobi his age. Not quite a brat, but certainly quite the show.

"Kagami-sama, I mean no disrespect," Fugaku began carefully, slowly, "but do you mean to say that you disapprove of the coup?"

The older Uchiha turned to the clan leader and clapped him grandly on the shoulder, laughing.

"Boy," exclaimed Kagami, a small light twinkling in his eyes, "I mean to say that I'm too old to make a difference! It is up to you."

_But you're right…I _don't_ approve._

Fugaku risked a small smile, nodding curtly.

"Whatever you do," Kagami said solemnly now, "I trust that it will be a decision made with the pride and honor of the Uchiha clan kept in mind."

"Yes, sir," agreed Fugaku. "Of course. We carry the symbol that fans the Will of Fire with our heads held high. It's something that has been taught since birth."

After that, Fugaku failed to pry any more opinions out of Kagami, only a few wise words and a chuckle or two. When he left, Kagami reached out and grabbed the young clan head's arm.

"Fugaku," he said. "One last thing."

"Yes, Kagami-sama?"

"Keep in mind," Kagami told him in a low voice, "that the pride of the Uchiha was once built out of friendship, trust, and peace — not from ill-will. There is more than one clan in this village, and we cherish them all equally."

Fugaku's eyes narrowed, but he did not reply. He only nodded, breaking loose from the older man's grip and walking away. Kagami was left by the river, a gurgling portion of stream that would be stained by blood and massacre sooner than he would have thought.

He stood, interestingly enough, in the same spot his son would stand in the next day. The spot where his son, his beloved Shisui, would unbuckle his shoes, whisper a final farewell, and plunge into the icy depths of the river after stripping the bandages off of his empty eyes.

* * *

"Hush, hush child, have no fear, your golden wings will be your sword and spear. And if you spy a water sprite, you will fly your way to the morning's light."

* * *

His hand shot out, grabbing the boy's arm. He realized, and it did not surprise him, that the child's hands were shaking, and his skin was cold and clammy. Long, dusty midnight hair brushed the boy's shoulders, framing his face in the shadows. His lips were dry and his eyes were swollen from shedding too many tears. The boy's hands trembled around his blade, holding it up with apprehension.

"Do not hesitate," ordered Kagami, fumbling with the item in his pocket. The boy glanced down, suspicious. But Kagami only produced an old necklace, Shisui's, that had been collected from the body. At least, what was left of it, the bloated corpse rocking down the Naka River without any eyes.

Kagami strung it around the boy's neck, whispering, "It was Shisui's. Take it."

The night was a hunt, prey falling with terribly muffled screams, and hunters dodging stealthily through the compound. The boy's hands trembled, and he whimpered when he realized that Kagami had run himself through with the sword.

_Be safe, child. Never forget those who are important to you._

Itachi whispered a _thank you_, and then he ran.

* * *

"You write poetry?"

"I guess. Kind of." He tucked his notebook closed, carefully shoving the pen into the spiraled edge and pulling it close to his body.

"I didn't know that."

"There're lots of things you don't know." He had not really written poetry; only the lyrics to a lullaby he'd heard once. She peered at him curiously, but he did not open up.

"Like?"

"Like how I write, sometimes, I guess." He was awkward, a little bit shy. He did not know what to say.

"What do you write?"

"Things." He wanted to ask her when it was that she began talking so much, asking so many questions. He used to be the teasing one, the jokester, the funny one. He used to be the one that had to prompt _her_ to open up, joking around and sending her flowers, planting a sweet kiss on her cheek every morning.

But now she watched him, a little sadly, a little apprehensively, mostly confused.

"Care to name a few things?"

He looked up at her.

"No."

"Kagami," she said softly, taking a seat beside her. He visibly tensed, and her hand, reaching over to his, pulled back abruptly. "Kagami, I'm—"

"You're happy," he finished for her, standing up rapidly. He grabbed his leather pack from the ground, slung it around his shoulder, and stuffed his notebook into it. "That's all I want, really. For you to be happy. You're happy, right?"

"No, Kagami—"

"Don't tell me anything different, please," he insisted, turning on his heel and leaving.

"Kagami!"

She screamed after him.

"I'm _not_ happy, and it's your fault!"

He turned on her then, viciously.

"And you think _I_ am?"

Koharu went quiet, and could only swallow her biting remarks down her throat as he stormed away.

* * *

"Dad?"

Kagami motioned for his son to come a little closer.

"I'm not—"

"Come here for a moment. Tell me how this sounds. _Your golden wings will be your sword and spear._"

"That sounds cheesy," Shisui snorted, shooting his goofy father a grin and readjusting his grip on the scroll that he was not supposed to be taking. He skillfully slipped it back into his father's desk, but did not escape Kagami's notice. Even so, his father did not say a word, only waited for a further opinion on his supposedly cheesy lines. "Well," Shisui added, "are you trying to write an anniversary poem, or what?"

"No, it's a lullaby."

"A lullaby?" Shisui made a face, running a hand through his shaggy hair. He had thick curls like his mother, but the signature black bird's nest came from Kagami, surely. "Is someone expecting a baby? Don't answer that," he said quickly.

"No, no one's expecting a baby. It's just an old song I heard."

"That's…reassuring," Shisui laughed, sidling away from the desk and making for the doorway.

"Shisui," Kagami called, as his son dodged out the door and made for his room. The patter of footsteps froze, and the hesitant shadow of his boy lingered in the hallway.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Just ask when you want the scroll, okay?"

* * *

It was cold and dark, the sand beneath his toes was moist with the lapping water of the river. He stood there for a while, contemplating the depth of the water, the darkness that swam in the murkiness below. Slowly, he put his shoes back on, because he heard traces of shinobi voices behind him. They were coming for him, and he was wasting time. He brought a hand up to the pendant his father had once given to him, strung around his neck.

He searched the woods with his one good eye.

Shisui ran.

* * *

"Hush, hush child, have no fear, your golden wings will be your sword and spear. And if you spy a water sprite, you will fly your way to the morning's light." Kagami bounced his infant on his knee, singing under his breath as the curly-haired child gurgled happily. The father laughed, finally realizing what Hiruzen meant by children being a hassle — one moment, happy and giggling, the next moment, crying like the Hokage Mountain was crumbling. And then maybe happy again.

Kagami had just managed to get Shisui to stop crying, and was sitting on the porch enjoying the afternoon, despite the cold. It was mid-February, and he'd bundled up his son with scarves, layering up and setting outside to see the first flakes of snow fall. He also discovered that Shisui had an irrational fear of snowflakes, for when the beginning of snow began to descend, Shisui had frozen in horror and started crying big fat tears.

It was only when Kagami told his child, "Silly Shisui, it's only Tobirama-sama come to say hello," that the child actually quieted and began giggling. It was either that, or because Kagami had stuck out his tongue and was making a demonstration of catching snowflakes in his mouth. He did, however, believe that Tobirama-sama liked to spend his birthdays visiting the earth, because it was always somewhat snowy or icy during Konoha's Februaries.

He hummed cheerily to the child until a young chuunin messenger for Hiruzen dashed by. The boy was wrapped up almost as much as Shisui, scarves and hats and a flak jacket that hardly fit over his big sweater. He skidded to a stop upon seeing Kagami, his hat sliding halfway off his head an revealing a head full of soft, wheat-blond hair. He had the brightest blue eyes, and a shy smile.

"Minato-kun, right?" said Kagami, smiling fondly at the boy.

"Good morning, Kagami-sama!" said the boy cheerily, readjusting his hat and straightening his mail pack. "How is the little one doing?"

"Shisui is doing just fine," Kagami laughed. "He just met the snow today."

Minato smiled, offering a finger to the baby. Shisui grabbed the boy's thumb and jerked him forward with more power than expected, pulling the lanky teenager off balance. The blond laughed and allowed the baby to pat his hand for a little bit, before straightening and pulling out some mail.

"Well, um, there's a lot of stuff here, but I don't really know anyone besides Fugaku and a few others," explained the boy, peering at a package with a frown. "Kushina sent something for Mikoto, but…you know what, I should find that…"

Minato began talking to himself, and Kagami chuckled.

"Minato-kun, let me take all that for you," he offered, reaching for the mail. "Shisui and I will deliver the mail, won't we?" He jostled the little boy on his lap, and the infant gurgled nonsense with a silly grin on his baby face.

"Really? Thanks so much, Kagami-sama!" Without any further dawdling, Minato slapped his bag closed and ran away like the Red-hot Habanero was on his tail. A speedy one, that yellow-headed fellow.

Kagami stood, holding Shisui in one arm and tucking the mail under his other. He rounded the edge of the complex, turning into the main center. They delivered each letter and package door by door, and the clan members were generally very excited to see the young child. Aunts and uncles were delighted, family members all crowding around to appreciate the curly-haired infant.

"Shisui, how do you like the snow?" a man about Kagami's age asked. "Look at him, he's so happy, hmm?"

"He sure is," agreed Kagami, continuing on their travels. When he finished delivering, he toted Shisui out to the forest, where he walked for a while. They reached the Naka River, and Kagami picked a smooth, sandy shore area where they could watch the water lap the stones and tumble downstream peacefully. Shisui patted the sand with his chubby fingers, and when he poked an arm into the water, he found it to be terrifyingly cold, too cold for his baby hands. Kagami laughed and pulled him back. "No, don't go there, you'll be an ice cube in no time," he laughed, fixing the baby's scarf when it unraveled. "Your mother would kill me if I froze you in the river, you know."

Kagami settled the child in his lap, staring at the river for a while. Chunks of ice broke off from the banks and drifted jerkily downstream, breaking as they hit boulders and catching themselves on one another. There was a large mass of ice, frozen solid to Kagami's left. He watched as a portion of it came off, a small shard that burbled past the rest and collided with a rock, flipping downstream and tumbling out of sight. Absently, Kagami stroked his son's head until the boy fell asleep in his arms, sighing steady little puffs of breath into the cold, winter air.

"Water sprites," Kagami said for no apparent reason, still studying the water. Was the river alive? Could it be a living thing, breathing and struggling to survive? What if it was a gigantic monster, an arm that stretched out to some unknown destination? Kagami stared at the river, half frozen over, half frothing freely over stones, the rock bed pushed to the bottom. The thin layer of snow that dusted the grass was like a hazy shield over his vision. The snowflakes coalesced into the shapes of humans, kneeling by the river and tracing their fingers over the frozen surfaces.

It was as if he could picture Tobirama-sama, breaking off that shard of ice, sending it downstream. Tobirama-sama, from the snow, stooping by the riverbank, silently, aloof and mysterious, freeing the one icy shoulder of the larger mass from its frozen confines.

Kagami realized, with a start, that _he_ was that shard of ice.

Shisui, suddenly, began to cry.

"Hush, hush," Kagami began to sing automatically, his throat somewhat dry. Shisui clung to his father's jacket, the little Uchiha crest sewn onto his baby-sized coat a blurb of red against navy. He stood, scooping the baby in his arms, and began trudging back to the Uchiha compound. Kagami held Shisui close to his chest, ignoring the eerie feeling of being watched. He didn't look back.

In the light frost of snow, in the smooth clay bank of the river, footprints.

* * *

The floorboards had always been creaky, squelching incessantly every time someone passed. But now, at the strike of midnight, they were deadly silent. An ominous weight hung in the air, but Kagami refused to be affected by it. He laid there, the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, every muscle in his body stilled. He stared at the ceiling without blinking for quite some time, wondering if he had already passed and was just now staring at some mirage before he entered the afterlife.

Itachi had laid him on his back before going, and Kagami found it to be surprisingly comfortable. It was not cold, nor was it painful. He simply rested, a strange warmth filling his chest, tingling his fingers. His hands were crusted with blood, some dry, some fresh, all of which had begun to pool beneath his him. The creaky floorboards were soaked, stained, crimson.

Kagami found it strange that he was overcome with happiness, but at the same time, he understood it completely.

He was going to see Shisui again.

_My son, with his golden wings and his golden spear_, he thought to himself wondrously. _If only I could've shown Koharu, what a beautiful poem that would make. _

Dry humor, really. Koharu would never forgive him for going off and dying, even though it seemed like an inevitable part of his cursed Uchiha lineage.

_And my water sprite was real, wasn't he? Why didn't anyone sing this song for me?_ Kagami, delusional, wanted to laugh, if it wasn't for the blood pooled at the back of his throat and the heavy, thick mist of black haziness that was fogging his mind. _A real water sprite. I shall find my morning._

He could not make sense of what he was thinking anymore. He saw so many faces, everywhere, from all times and memories and places. He saw tears and he saw smiles, deaths and births, lights and darks. He recalled hugging Shisui to his chest in joy; his baby boy, his own baby boy.

He recalled watching Shisui go.

In his last moments, Shisui could only hear a distant ringing in his ears, bells and chimes jingling lightly in the wind. The tune was one he'd heard many times before, the first time sung by a beautiful woman with hair like a sea of rubies. It was a slow sad song, the variation of a funeral lament from a foreign land morphed into a beautiful tune meant to celebrate life. There were countless places where he'd heard it, countless times, countless memories. So, so many times, he had listened to this lullaby.

And, he realized, in a final moment of clarity — this would be the last.

* * *

Well. That was more depressing than expected, hmm?

And...long. lol. =3=


End file.
